Reflection
by EragonArya
Summary: Before Blaine came out of the closet, he took his girlfriend to a dance. While meeting her parents, he thinks on the part of himself he has to hide, the part of him that isn't a facade. Possible two shot.


**Hello! This is a one shot hat I randomly got inspiration for when listening to the song 'Reflection' from the Disney animated film, Mulan. It's where the title comes from, and is the song used later on.**

**If this gets enough interest, it may become a two shot. **

**Enjoy! And don't be scared to leave a review!**

**Thanks to spitsgirl18 for betaing, check out her stories!**

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><p><strong>Reflection<strong>

I parked on the side of the road in front of my girlfriend Ella's house, one that was much like my own. Like promised, I was picking her up to go to the first school dance of the year. We talked about me meeting her parents tonight, and I came prepared to do so.

I walked up to the door, holding the bouquet I had gotten on the way. Unlike most of the guys who were giving their girlfriends flowers from the grocery store, I got them at one of the more expensive flower shops in town, one that provided for weddings for families with high incomes. One like my own.

I knocked on the door after taking a moment to catch my bearings.

Ella opened the door immediately, as if she had been waiting behind it, and gasped in surprise at the flowers.

"Oh Blaine! Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, taking them from my hands. "They're beautiful!"

I smiled. "Not in comparison to you."

She blushed and smiled sweetly at me. I couldn't deny she was beautiful. She had tanned skin, with only a few freckles dotted across her nose and golden brown hair that fell past her shoulders. Her bright emerald eyes always seemed to be sparkling with joy. What I liked about her was her personality. One of the few girls my age I could put up with, she was, sweet, polite and intelligent. She also had an open mind. She didn't partake in any of the drama that went around and was nice to talk to. She was involved in a few different activities, and was rather popular. I've often heard guys say she has a great body too, slim waist, long legs, large bust, but I never usually noticed. I could tonight though, when she was wearing this light green dress that went to her knees. It had a slight V to it and thick straps that went over her shoulders.

"What is it honey?" I heard a voice say behind me.

I turned to see a woman, slightly taller than Ella standing there in a deep burgundy dress. They were almost identical, except there were obvious differences. Their lips, for example. Ella had thick pink lips that were often covered in gloss. This woman's were thin and pale.

"Look what Blaine got me mom!" Ella exclaimed.

"Those are lovely," Ella's mother said, giving them a quick glance before looking at me. She studied me with a knowledgeable look. "You must be Blaine," she said. Her voice didn't display any emotion.

Hoping for the best, I gave her a polite smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Bentley," I said.

Mrs. Bentley smiled. "With everything Ella's told us, the pleasure is mine," she said, taking my hand and shaking it gently.

"_Mom!_" I heard Ella say beside me.

I laughed and wrapped my arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It's quite alright," I said.

She giggled, her cheeks still tinged with pink.

"Shall we go to the sitting room?" Mrs. Bentley asked, smiling sweetly.

I nodded in agreement, and followed them to what I assumed was the sitting room. I had let go of Ella's waist, but still held her hand. I found she liked it when I did that, so I did it to keep her happy.

A man in his mid-40s was sitting on one of the leather couches. He had the latest issue of National Geographic in his hands and had a coffee cup on the glass coffee table in front of him. He looked up and put down the magazine when we entered, giving me a hard stare.

Mrs. Bentley sat down next to him as Ella led me to the couch across from him. I took a quick glance around the room, seeing many valuable objects scattered in a neat fashion. To our right there was a stone fireplace, with a log crackling with fake fire giving off slight heat. Directly behind Ella's parents was a large mirror. I didn't give it more than a fleeting glance before turning my attention to Ella's father.

"Mr. Bentley," I greeted politely. "I am honoured to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Blake, is it?" he asked.

"Blaine, sir," I corrected. "Blaine Anderson."

"Right," he said.

There were a couple beats of silence before Mrs. Bentley spoke up. "So how are you finding high school Blaine?"

"I prefer it much more compared to middle school," I answered. "I find the classes are more interesting and I like how there is a larger student population."

"Are you involved in any sports?" Mr. Bentley asked.

"I tried out for the football team last Friday. I think I did well, but my size may be what keeps me off of the team," I explained. I did try out. I wasn't entirely sure I would make it as I was only 5'7''. "I play soccer, lacrosse and I'm planning on doing cross country. I also, though I'm not sure if you consider it a sport, ride horses."

Mr. Bentley nodded, impressed. "How do your academics fare with so many activities?" he asked.

"As I haven't exactly started everything yet sir, I can't say for certain, but I'm sure I will be able to keep my academics up to the high standards my parents hope for me to achieve," I said.

"Blaine had the highest average last year," Ella piped up from beside me. "He was also valedictorian at his school."

"Your parents must have been proud," said Mrs. Bentley.

"They were thrilled," I said.

"If I may be so bold as to ask, what are your intentions with my daughter?" asked Mr. Bentley.

"Daddy!" Ella exclaimed.

I had known this question would arise as soon as Ella and I became official. So I began preparing a speech before that so I'd be able to impress the people that cared for Ella the most.

"Sir, I only intend to make Ella happy. She is truly a wonderful girl: intelligent, charming, entertaining and beautiful. Any man would be happy to have her, and I am extremely lucky she has given me the chance to see just how lovely she is first hand."

I saw Ella beam from the corner of my eye.

"And you haven't been pressuring her?"

"No sir, we are going at a pace that the both of us feel comfortable with."

"How did you meet her?"

"In English class on the first day. We were assigned to sit together and we became fast friends which progressed further."

"And what are your plans for after graduating?" Mr. Bentley asked.

"My parents wish for me to go to Harvard to study law," I said.

"Ella mentioned your father was a lawyer?" Mrs. Bentley asked.

"That's correct ma'am," I said. "He is the owner and founder of Anderson Law Offices."

"I take it you'll be taking over when he is retired?" Mr. Bentley asked.

"That is the plan sir," I said.

"Do you have any siblings or is it just you?"

"I am an only child."

Mr. Bentley began to speak about politics. I was well informed in the subject by my parents. As he spoke, I looked around the room and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.

There I was, sitting on the couch facing my girlfriend's parents for the first time before my school dance. I had on a plain white shirt and tie matching Ella's dress, black dress pants, hair gelled to the point of suffocation. I looked like the perfect, dapper child who never stuck a foot out of line and was interested in all things most men would find interesting, as well as the more complex parts of society. I was listening intently to Mr. Bentley speak about the upcoming elections as if I were interested in them.

That wasn't who I was. I didn't know who that person, staring back at me in the mirror, was. When I was alone, locked in my room, that was the only time I allowed myself to be me. What everyone else saw, that was a mould, a person I almost wished I was inside. Though day by day, I was cracking under the pressure of keeping the facade. More than once in the past week I had let slip a small part of who truly was.

A teacher had walked in to the music room after school to find me trying to write my first song. It hadn't been very successful, in my eyes, but she had seemed impressed and asked about it. I lied and said I was just fiddling around, that I'd never touched a piano, or any other instrument in my life.

I accidentally left my iPod in class at school. My friend picked it up for me. He had put it on shuffle in class and asked why I had _Broadway_ of all things on it. I said it was my mom's. When he asked why she had so many Top 40 songs, I explained that she didn't know how to take things off. He accepted the answer and the issue went by as if it never existed, though my heart was pounding.

Ella and I were at the mall. She was talking and I looked around, catching sight of a beautiful man. When she turned around to see what had captured my attention, she asked what I was staring at, only seeing the man. I quickly made up an answer, saying I liked the tuxedo in the window behind him. I didn't really, but Ella didn't know that. She suggested I go try it on. I said it would take too much time; that we were there for her. She didn't press the matter further.

I wanted to let myself be who I truly was, but I was terrified. I had seen people at my school get teased for being who they truly were. Of course, it was usually only for small things, like for liking different music, or for being in certain clubs. But there were two people like me at school and they were tortured. I hadn't seen them smile since the day they came out of the closet. I didn't want to fathom what would happen to me if I admitted to my friends I was gay. I wasn't strong enough, didn't have enough courage to handle my friends turning their backs on me.

And my parents, who were conservative to the point of hatred, would be less than unhappy if I were to allow myself to show my true colors. They wanted me to find a nice girl to settle down and raise a family with. If I was gay, or rather told them I was gay, I would be nothing more than a disappointment to them. They rarely left town for more than a few days every month, but if I were to come out that would change drastically. They wouldn't be able to look me in the eye if I came out and would go on more and more business trips leaving me at home with no one but the maids to keep me company. I didn't want that. Even though they weren't the greatest people in the world, they were still my parents. So I moulded myself to be the perfect son in the hopes that it would make them love me more, and be home as much as possible. I partook in activities they would approve of, and avoided, or hid the ones they didn't.

Joining sports was one of those activities they would want me to do. I enjoyed watching them, to some extent, but playing them not so much. I knew my father would want me to try out for the football team, so I did. He used to play lacrosse, so I followed in his footsteps to make him proud. I was pushed into soccer by my parents when I was young, and they always tried to go to the games so I stuck with it. The only sports I enjoyed were cross country and horseback riding. I loved running, and the feeling of freedom I felt when doing so. I felt the same on horseback, and I always did find horses to be wise, magnificent creatures. I found it kind of sadistic those were the sports they liked the least.

My clothes were what people would expect of a guy my age. I didn't want to wear the preppy American Eagle and Hollister clothes, and suits so plain that I blended into the crowd. I wanted to dress in plaid shirts, and cardigans. I had a secret stash of bow ties and suspenders. I wanted to wear them, but my parents would be unimpressed, which was why they were secret.

My dreams for the future were something I had to hide. In truth, instead of going to Harvard to become a lawyer, I wanted to go to New York, and get into a music program, maybe become a teacher. But my parents would never accept that. Their plan for me was to take over my father's law firm when he retired. It was unspoken, but widely known. They found music a waste of time, which was why I kept my guitar hidden under my bed, and why I only used the school piano. I sang in the shower. They wouldn't be impressed if they found out I spent my free time playing music, instead of throwing around a football, or shooting hoops, so I kept it a secret. The only person who knew about my love of music was me.

I continued to stare at myself in the mirror. My arm was wrapped around Ella's waist in a loving manner. We looked like the perfect couple. We would be, if things were different, if I was different. I did like her, just not in the way she wanted me to. If I were straight, or even bisexual, I would be in heaven dating her. Being gay, I only appreciated the friendship. I certainly wouldn't be pushing her into anything further than a few quick kisses. Those were enough for me, if not too much. I felt terrible for leading her on, but I didn't have much of a choice.

Or did I? Things would be so much easier if I came to school one day, being exactly who I was, not the person everyone else wanted to be. I knew I would be tormented, but was that really that bad compared to being suffocated under the mass of perfection I was trying to uphold? I was tired of everything. Maybe it was time to come out and let myself be who I really was.

I felt someone tap my arm and I jolted out of my thoughts. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was just talking about how disgusting it was the other day when I saw some petition trying to get gay marriage rights in Ohio. They should be burned at the stake!"

My throat choked up. I wanted to say it. I wanted to say it _so bad_. But when I opened my mouth, words with the opposite meaning fled past my lips. "I completely agree, sir." I felt cold. Who was I kidding, I didn't have enough courage to stand up for myself, to face the torment I would receive.

"Call me John," said Mr. Bentley with a proud smile.

I felt sick to my stomach. Of course that was the reason why he wanted me to call him by his first name.

"Daddy, we need to get going," I heard Ella say, tugging on my arm to get me to stand up.

"Alright then," he said. "Have a good time. I'll extend your curfew by an hour."

"It was nice meeting you," I said.

When we got to my car, Ella turned on me. "How could you have agreed with him?" she asked. "I thought you were different than those other boys at school."

"I don't," I mumbled, looking down, slight tears in my eyes.

Her expression softened. "It's okay," she said, giving me a hug. When she stepped back, she asked, "Why did you agree then?"

"I don't know," I said. I knew why, but I couldn't say it, not tonight.

"Come on, let's go have some fun," she said.

I was thankful for the change in subject. Ella was perceptive, which was another thing I liked about her. "Sounds good," I said cheerfully. I had mastered the fake smile, so she couldn't tell how I was really feeling when I looked back up.

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><p>By the time I got home it was one in the morning. I tossed and turned for an hour before giving up on trying to sleep. My mind was too distracted on the possibilities that could arise if I were to come out and my lack of courage to do so. This had been happening often, so I did what I always did.<p>

I hid my Disney movies with my guitar. My friends would scorn me for having them, my parents would get rid of them. Ella might like that I had them, but I didn't want to risk her finding out.

Flipping through them, I decided on Mulan. It was one of my favorites. Maybe it was because of how courageous Mulan was, and how she overcame the expectations of her.

I slipped the DVD into my laptop, put in my headphones and pressed play. I watched it intently. When Mulan came back from the matchmaker after failing to be the perfect daughter, I knew how she felt.

_Look at me,  
>I will never pass for a perfect bride<em>

_Or a perfect daughter  
>Can it be,<br>I'm not meant to play this part?  
>Now I see,<br>That if I were truly to be myself_

_It would break my family's heart,_

_Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me  
>Why is my reflection someone I don't know?<br>Somehow I cannot hide who I am, though I tried  
>When will my reflection show who I am inside<em>

How I pray,  
>That a time will come I can free myself<p>

_And meet their expectations  
>On that day,<br>I'll discover some way to free myself_

_And to make my family proud  
>They want a docile lamb<em>

_No one knows who I am  
>Must there be a secret me I'm forced to hide?<br>Must I pretend that I'm someone else, for all time  
>When will my reflection show who I am inside?<br>When will my reflection show who I am inside_

I knew exactly how she felt.


End file.
